All of Us Are Going to Hell

ELEVEN

Approx. 16 Minutes into the End of the World
 
No wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

2 CORINTHIANS (11:14)
 
Trust Iris to draw the short straw.

    Who's idea was it to draw straws, anyway? Oh, wait. It was mine. But I didn't exactly expect there to be a cup full of straws in a mini-fridge somewhere. Everyone else was pretty happy to let Iris bell the fucking cat. We're all inching out of the foyer now, in single file—with me in front.

    “When I said: ‘Let's draw straws to see who gets the door’, I didn't exactly mean it literally!” I hiss at them, in hushed tones. 

    “Iris, ssh,” Jabari says behind me.

    “Don't shush me!”

    The ding-dong of the doorbell sounds again, like an alarm that jars through the house. It literally rattles my bones.

Whoever's out there isn't exactly patient—and I'd be scared if they were because there's lava out on Route 55. How did they get past it, anyway?

    I don't expect anyone to answer that question.

    Ever since the Live from earlier, when my phone went incommunicado, shit just kept getting weirder and weirder—when I look back, I can swear I see Hadassah and Elijah touch hands.

    Get a room, literally.

    And it just slaps me in the face. A solid memory of a girl, drunk as fuck, at a party being lured into a room with purple lights and naked people—

    “Iris?”

    “Huh?” I turn back. It's Hadassah.

    “We're at the door,” she says nimbly. I look forward and see the front door stretch high above my head, with the golden handle gleaming in front of me. There's a cursive M engraved into it.

    “Do I really have to do this?” I ask aloud, feeling sweat forming on my brow. I don't think it's the heat. “Maybe we can—”

    “Babes, it was your idea to draw straws,” Lilith reminds from the back of the line. “You either do this now or we all forfeit.”

    “Gee, thanks for the pep talk,” I seethe.

    “Just open the damn door, Iris,” I hear Elijah say. “Shouldn't be harder than an Instagram Live during Cheer Week.”

    I shoot him a glare. He smirks.

    “Don't spite her, Eli,” Jabari tells him in a caution. “Unless you want to replace her.”

    The doorbell rings again. It's even louder from up close. My ears are ringing. Impatient much? I want to shout at the door. “Why is this doorbell so loud?” I scream instead.

    “It's a big house!” Mark yells. “We have to get the door somehow!”

    I reach out for the handle. And I stop.

    This is really it. I'll never see Dad or his girlfriend, Diane. I liked Diane—she could make a mean pot roast.

    No more Lives.

    No more college degrees.

    No more likes and comments.

    No more anything.

    This is really the end of everything.

    And me opening the door is going to make sure of all that. Is it honestly over? Just like that? Come on, that can't be the—